


Warlocks and Other Woes

by AnagramRMX



Series: The Power of Three (Plus Two) [2]
Category: Charmed, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Crossover, Family, Gen, Winchester bros are Halliwells
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-28
Updated: 2013-09-28
Packaged: 2017-12-27 19:46:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/982888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnagramRMX/pseuds/AnagramRMX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Halliwell cousins have had their powers for one week, and they are not exactly having an easy time of it. Prue and Phoebe are arguing constantly, Piper still isn't sure if she wants to be a witch, Sam is hiding his premotions as well as his migraines, and Dean just wishes he didn't have to worry about blowing people up. Oh. And there's a Warlock out there abducting women.</p>
<p>Or: Episode Two of Charmed if Dean and Sam were Halliwells.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warlocks and Other Woes

**Author's Note:**

> Second episode, after which I’m going to start mixing things up a little more. Right now I’m still working within the normal framework of the episodes, but I do try to adjust it so that it’s more of an SPN type series later on.  
> Also, I feel weird writing it like this, but Dean’s nineteen/twenty in this, so I always have him drinking soda instead of alcohol. If he were with John or Bobby, maybe it would be a different thing, but I get the idea that Grams, and subsequently Prue and Piper, wouldn’t encourage him into his borderline alcoholic tendencies. So unless he’s having a serious Mindfuck, or John is visiting, or I’ve made it to the second half of season 3, where he’s legal, (or he’s at a party where the girls’ can’t control his beverage choices. See forth chapter): he won’t be drinking alcohol.  
> Also: I still haven't gone looking for a beta, so any errors are on me.

Quake was packed as Phoebe walked through the building. She dodged past customer after customer, and had to stop and apologize to a young couple that she bumped into. Even so, she smiled broadly as she walked through the throng of people, feeling gorgeous in the borrowed dress she was wearing, and knowing she was catching eyes as she walked past. To everyone around her she looked like just another hot lady out on the town.

And that was why she was getting such a kick out of knowing she was anything but.

Just a week ago, she, her sisters and her two cousins had found out that they were the descendants of powerful witches. Things had been topsy-turvy with discovering their powers and learning to use magic. She had begun having visions of the future, so far just a few minutes into the distance. Piper had begun to freeze time for the people around her. Prue, their older sister, had begun to move things with her mind whenever she got upset.

Yet, when Phoebe caught sight of Piper as she skittered around busily, Phoebe was reminded that even with magic coming into their lives, the real struggle these days was work. Prue had quit her job the week before, after all.

Additionally, Piper had tirelessly worked to get a job as a chef the past few weeks, but once she was hired, her intended boss had completely flipped things on her, promoting the middle sister to manager at the restaurant Quake. Since then, she had been running around like crazy as of late, and _not_ in the best mood because of the unexpected responsibility.

“I’m gonna kill him…” Piper growled as Phoebe approached her near the bar.

Phoebe raised an eyebrow. “Who?” she asked, knowing full well that the only ‘ _him_ ’s in Piper’s life right now were their cousins, Dean and Sam. And the two of them had been doing nothing but keeping their heads down.

While Phoebe and her sisters had received mostly harmless powers, Dean had gotten the power to blow things up, and was having a particularly difficult time controlling it. He had hardly left the house all week to except to drop Sam off at school, and sometimes go see Piper at Quake.

Sam on the other hand was the only one of them that hadn’t developed any powers at all. As the sensible child he was, had been trying to keep life as easy as possible for his now troubled family.

“Chef Moore,” grumbled Piper. “He-of-the-phony-accent hires me and then quits to open his own place? Thank you _very_ much!”

“I don’t see any customer’s complaining,” Phoebe replied optimistically, glancing around at the neatly run restaurant around them.

But Piper just made a face. “Hello?!” she blurted. “I am not a restarauntour. I am a chef. I have no idea what I’m doing…” She trailed off to take a breath, before glancing at her sister. Her eyes narrowed at the purple dress she had on. “Are you wearing my dress?”

Phoebe’s mouth stayed closed, avoiding an answer to the question, but she noticed a wonderful distraction at her side as a blonde woman walked up. “Hey, Britney,” she greeted, grateful for the interruption of one of Prue’s friend’s from school. She wasn’t sure why she was there, but it was always good to see a friend. She noticed the black outline of an angel on her hand, and had to smile. “Oooh, I love that tattoo.”

Britney smiled back. “Thanks.”

“I thought it was illegal to get them on your hand because of the veins…”

“In the states yeah,” Britney responded, moving her hand to admire the angel. “I got it done when me and Prue when to Tahiti last year.” With that she looked back to Piper, handing her some money with her other hand. “Keep the change, Piper. I gotta jam.”

Piper smiled back. “Okay, say hi to Max,” she responded, taking the money.

“Bye…” Britney said as she nodded, and passed by a waitress.

While Piper took a moment to talk to the waitress, Phoebe’s eyes wandered down to the other side of the bar where a man was sitting, looking at her curiously. Before she could ponder whether to approach him, though, an image swarmed into her head. The man, whose name she just _knew_ was Alec, was walking over and offering to buy her a drink. She reveled in the premonition for a moment before Piper’s voice called her back to reality.

“So about my dress…”

But Phoebe grinned, and cut her off. “Okay, see that poster boy to the left?” she whispered excitedly, eyes pointing to the end of the bar, where Alec was sitting in the real world. Piper raised an eyebrow, and started to turn, but Phoebe called her off again. “Just glance. Don’t be obvious…”

More discreetly, Piper’s eyes flitted in the direction of the pretty-boy on the other end of the bar. She looked over him appreciatively before looking back to her sister. “I approve. Who is he?”

The smile on Phoebe’s face spread slyly. “His name is Alec, and he’s about to come over and ask if he could buy me a martini,” she answered, leaning forward on the bar.

“How do you know?” asked Piper, her brow wrinkling slightly.

“Let’s just say I saw the age old problem of who approaches who,” Phoebe said cryptically. Piper’s eyes narrowed, not understanding. “I had a little premonition.”

A look of panic appeared on Piper’s face now. “What?” she breathed, her voice lowering appropriately as she too leaned forward. “Phoebe, you aren’t supposed to use your powers. We agreed…”

Phoebe nearly rolled her eyes, not having any of that. “No, Dean and Prue agreed. I abstained,” she replied, almost begrudgingly, though she knew she had no right. Her oldest sister and younger cousin were only trying to keep them safe. Dean was under the impression that the powers were being supplied by some evil entity, and didn’t want his cousins to get in too deep if it were. Prue just didn’t want to draw too much attention to them. “Besides, it’s not like I can control it. It just popped into my head.”

“That’s the whole point,” Piper sighed. “None of us can control our powers. That’s what scares me. I could panic and freeze the entire restaurant…”

Phoebe had let her attention drift back to Alec, though, and she promptly shushed her sister. “Here he comes!” she blurted, silencing Piper before leaning on the counter and looking like she had nothing better to do.

Piper rolled her eyes just a bit as the blonde tapped Phoebe on the shoulder. “Hi,” he greeted. “I was just sitting over there wondering if I could buy you a martini or something.”

“A martini, hmmm,” replied Phoebe before looking over at her sister for a moment. “Imagine that. I would love one. It’s Alec right?”

The man looked caught off guard. “Yeah,” he answered, sounding as surprised as he looked. “How’d you know my name?”

“Wild guess. Do you want to grab a table?”

“Yeah…” Alec replied.

Phoebe moved to stand up, but Piper grabbed her hand, and dragged her gaze back. “Prue is gonna be pissed.”

“News flash,” Phoebe responded, obviously not caring about her elder sister’s opinion on the matter. “Stop worrying: you’ll get wrinkles.”

With that, she walked off entirely, leaving Piper to get back to work. Neither of them, of course, were any the wiser to the evil currently stalking about the restaurant, and terrorizing their friend Britney in the parking lot.

 

(-:-)

The next morning found Piper standing at the kitchen island by herself, their new cat, Kit, scuttling between her feet while she tried to make breakfast. The kitchen TV was tuned in to the history channel, explaining about the events of one of the many historic witch trials.

She felt uneasy as the story of Mary Este played on screen, explaining how the woman had sought refuge from her persecutors in a church. As soon as she reached the doors, yelling to God for help, lighting struck the church, and everyone was left with the idea that God himself had declared her evil and that she was not worthy of being in his house.

The tragic tale made her twitch nervously.

When she had become a witch, she had been nervous, but she had tried to believe Phoebe that this didn't make her evil. Even Dean had eventually admitted that they weren't inherently evil for being witches. While having their powers might eventually corrupt them, or while whoever had given them the power was a demon and would someday claim their soul: they were not right-out evil.

Even so, the entire premise of being witches had started to scare her. Just looking through the Book of Shadows had shown her the damage that they could cause, how dangerous their powers could be to other people. She was looking at complete strangers differently too, since warlocks were chasing after them now to steal their powers. Anyone she talked to could be someone trying to kill them, and it was terrifying.

Every time she went to work made her fears worse, as she was constantly trying to keep herself in check so she didn’t freeze anything. If she froze someone in the middle of the restaurant, or if Prue accidentally moved something at work, or if Dean blew something up in public, or if Phoebe made someone suspicious with her knowledge of the future, or...or just if anything happened with their magic, what would happen then? What if a warlock saw them and decided he wanted their powers? What would normal people think, and what would happen to her family’s lives? And what if they _were_ evil?

"You know that's not true, right?"

Piper nearly jumped out of her skin as she turned around, to see Dean leaning against the island, staring at the TV screen just like she was. He was dressed in jeans, with a white t-shirt under a flannel button-up, which meant he wasn't going to work again this morning.

Dean had been taking time away from his job at the auto-shop since this entire witch business started. After all, there were a lot of flammables you came in contact with there, and he was the only one with an overtly dangerous power. He had been trying for days to get a handle on his new ability to blow things up so he wouldn't really hurt someone, and he wasn't going back to work until he manage to accomplish that.

"What?" she managed to choke out in response.

Dean gestured at the TV, being careful that it was a gentle motion that wouldn't set an explosion. "That witches can't enter a church," he replied. "There's no warding or enchantment that can keep a human out of a church. Unless they're possessed or something, even a demon's servant can walk straight onto public property and hallowed ground."

For some reason, as Piper quickly picked up the remote, and turned off the TV, it didn’t make her feel any better. "We'll, at least we know all those monsters coming after us can follow us anywhere."

Dean tilted his head, and smiled when he heard the timer for the coffee pot go off, moving to get himself a mug of the caffeinated wonder. "Well, not everywhere," he shrugged. "Private property is safe from certain demons as long as we don't invite them inside."

Piper's face dropped further, and she looked over at him as if to ask if he was serious before huffing and turning off the TV to go back to making breakfast.

Dean's brow wrinkled, and he opened his mouth to ask what was wrong just before Prue walked into the room.

"Morning," she declared.

"Morning," replied Piper sharply, looking pointedly at Dean to silently tell him that he should not ask anything else right now.

"Ooh, you're making pancakes?"

"Yeah. By the way, Andy called while you were in the shower."

Dean's eyebrows rose in amusement, and he turned to the oldest Halliwells with a grin that Prue certainly did not return.

In fact, she actually seemed to panic a little. “What did you tell him?”

Piper and Dean caught onto that tone simultaneously. "That you were in the shower," Piper said shortly. "Bad date?"

"No," Prue answered breathily, though she still looked less than excited to talk to it. "No...no. It was great actually. You know, dinner, movie..." She paused and looked at the countertop. "Sex."

Dean's eyebrows rose sharply. "Excuse me?" he asked with a slight laugh.

Piper smiled a little. "On the first date?" she taunted. "You sleaze."

"If Prue can do it, I get to do it without you guys yelling at me," Dean said, only for Prue to sigh in irritation.

"It wasn't exactly our first date, guys," she said in her defense, but Dean just intercepted again.

"High school doesn't count."

Prue sighed at the two of them and started to walk into the other room. Piper just kept the sly look on her face, and looked at Dean as they both followed her. “Oooh, that bad, huh?”

“No, actually, that good,” Prue replied with a long suffering sigh. “It was…well, we were amazing. But that’s not the point. I told myself that things would be different; that we would take it slow. It shouldn’t have happened, that’s all.”

“What shouldn’t have happened?”

Everyone turned to see Phoebe striding down the stairs, looking a little tired, but overall in a good mood.

Prue opened her mouth to tell Phoebe it was nothing, but Dean looked up at her and said, “Prue slept with Andy,” earning him a slap in the arm from Prue.

“Would you be quiet?”

Phoebe looked indignant. “Wait, you weren’t going to them but not me? Family meeting!”

At just that moment, the youngest Halliwell started down the stairs, looking way more tired than the others, and just a little confused as to what he had missed. Sam made a face. He hadn’t slept well, and he certainly did not want to wake up to a discussion about his family’s towel usage.

“What are we having a family meeting about?” he asked, his voice sounding bleary.

“Prue’s keeping secrets,” Phoebe said, sounding like a two year old.

“Well it’s not like it was any of your business,” Prue said flatly.

“As younger siblings and younger sibling figures, I think it is all of our business to know what you do when you don’t get home till three,” Dean said, grinning teasingly, but then rounding on Phoebe. “But that means I also have to ask where the hell were _you_?”

Phoebe’s eyes widened a bit. “Oh come _on_ ,” she sighed. “Do not change the subject.”

“Don’t dodge the question,” Prue said, her voice acidic.

With a roll of her eyes, Phoebe responded, “I was home earlier than Prue at least,” she said.

“Were you at Alec’s?” Piper asked pointedly.

Prue and Dean looked confused, though. “Who’s Alec?” Prue asked.

“Some hottie she hit on in the restaurant.”

Sam, who was still blinking his way awake as the conversation went on, sort of began to understand what they were talking about, and certainly did not care to hear about everyone’s sex lives. He made a noise of disgust down in his throat that was promptly ignored by the rest of the family.

Phoebe looked mildly indignant at Piper’s comment. “Excuse me, revisionist history, he hit on me. Remember the whole vision thing?”

At that, Dean’s brow tightened. “Vision thing?” he asked. “Phoebe, I thought we talked about that…”

Phoebe didn’t say a word in response, prompting Dean to sigh angrily as Prue gaped at her younger sister. Sam rolled his eyes at them and looked at Piper as if he didn’t want to be in the middle of this.

“Phoebe!” Prue blurted. “I thought we agreed!”

“No, _we_ didn’t,” responded Phoebe pointedly. “ _You_ agreed, _you_ laid down the law. There’s a difference.”

“These aren’t toys,” Dean growled. “We have to be careful or they can get us killed.”

“And using them in public means a warlock could find us,” Prue followed up.

“It was just one lousy premonition!” Phoebe said. “That was it. No one died, and it’s not like either of you can control it any better than I can!”

At that, Dean grit his teeth, and Phoebe had the grace to feel a little guilty. He was actually the only one really _trying_ to learn control. He was also the only one that really needed to, though. On the side, Piper closed her eyes, trying to just wait this out, and Sam looked at the floor.

“Just…take it easy when you’re in public, alright?” he said with a sigh.

Phoebe bit her tongue, and then looked back to Prue. This conversation wasn’t one that she wanted to be having if it meant being mean. “Either way, nothing happened last night. At least nothing I’m ashamed of.”

Prue still looked disapproving, but they all took the mental cue that they didn’t want to argue about this right now. Their powers were dangerous, but they still didn’t know enough to really be able to argue about it. “There’s another reason we have to be careful,” she eventually went on, changing the subject. “Andy thinks someone is abducting women in our area.”

Concern spread over the other’s faces. “Abducting women?” Dean repeated, sounding protective as always. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, warlocks aren’t the only evil we have to watch out for.”

 

(-:-)

 

Andy Trudeau looked seriously at the photograph he was being shown, getting even more unsettled as his day continued on. First it had been Prue running off on him after what he thought was a wonderful night. Now another woman had gone missing. This was _exactly_ how he wanted his morning to go.

“She didn’t come home at all last night,” the man, Max, was saying, indicating the girl in the picture: his fiancé Brittany. “That’s not like Brittany, believe me.”

Andy’s partner, Darrel Morris, reached out and took it carefully. The taller man was one of the many other homicide detectives that they had on staff, but he was the only one that Andy could really see working with. Even though they both had a serious difference in beliefs about what was acceptable police work, Morris was a good guy to be around, and a good cop.

“Tell me, Max,” Morris started. “What time did she leave to go to Quake?”

“Eight, Eight-thirty,” Max replied, the distress in his voice to anyone with ears. “She called around ten and said she was coming home. I’m really worried.”

“Chances are she’ll show up. Usually do,” Andy said, knowing that the situation sucked, but she hadn’t been missing long enough for a real case to be opened. The women disappearing around Quake recently had been making everyone in the department nervous, especially for Andy, who knew the Halliwells had been hanging out there. “The best thing to do right now is to go home and see if she calls, alright? Will you do that?”

Max looked disappointed at how they weren’t doing anything, but he seemed to understand. He nodded at them uncertainly. “Yeah. Thanks,” he replied, before starting to walk out of the precinct.

Andy looked over at his partner warily, taking the picture from his hand and waving it pointedly. “Fourth one this week,” he said.

Morris looked just as distressed as Andy did, but he knew that Andy was going to start pointing fingers at more _unnatural_ reasons for these girls to be disappearing. He looked at his partner seriously before saying, “Yeah, well, they can’t just be disappearing into thin air.” He also had been picking up how Andy had been acting disgruntled all morning, and narrowed his eyes as Andy twitched a little, looking at the photo he’d been given.

“You do something with your hair?” Morris asked, indirectly pointing out that his partner wasn’t acting normal.

Ignoring him, Andy put the picture down on his desk, honestly not wanting to tell his partner about how his high school girlfriend had snuck out of his apartment after their date the night before. Or how he had been so disappointed by it. “At least we narrowed down his feeding pool to the area around the restaurant.”

Morris just kind of rolled his eyes. “Better tell your sweetie to lock the door at night,” he suggested. Andy pursed his lips, and walked off, deciding that he probably _should_ do just that.

 

(-:-)

 

Dean stared warily at the table in front of him as he sat in the attic by himself. Downstairs, Prue was driving out to drop Sam off at school, and Piper was making a phone call while Phoebe cleaned up from breakfast. The conversation earlier that morning had reminded him once more of how none of them could control their powers just yet, and while that was all fine and dandy for Phoebe, it was a serious problem for him.

When they had received their powers last week, Dean’s first instinct had been to get rid of them. Since he was young, his father had been insistent that anything with powers like that was dangerous, and had to be killed. It had taken a lot of convincing from Sam, Prue and Phoebe that _maybe_ it wasn’t that bad, that witches didn’t have to be evil.

After a little while, he had consented. Not all magic practitioners were bad news. Some witches he had come across on hunts were helpful, and gave them protective charms and hex bags. Legitimate psychics were alright, assuming they had learned to control their powers. Even their friend Bobby used spells now and then if it could help them kill a monster or two.

What had really convinced Dean in the end was that there were notes all over the Book of Shadows that convinced him their Grams had been a witch, and he would _never_ believe that the woman that raised him, the woman that raised his mother, was evil.

But even if he had consented to give their powers a test run, he needed to learn to control them. He had been extra careful in the past few days to not get too hyped up or tense about things. Sometimes just waving his arm to point at the grandfather clock had caused a minor explosion, so in the days he was taking off of work, he’d been coming into the attic to try and get a handle on whatever it was that was triggering his powers.

So far, it wasn’t going well.

He swore a little as he failed to use his powers on the ceramic cup in front of him, seeing as it was still intact. Figuring out how to prevent it started with figuring out how it worked, after all, so he’d taken all of Piper’s least favorite china into the attic and had been trying to blow each piece up on purpose.

Mostly, all Dean had accomplished was looking silly, because anyone looking in through the window would have sworn he was trying to fly with how he was waving his arms. For what had to be the thirtieth time that morning, he put his hands out and flicked his wrists, trying to mimic the motions that had always triggered it before.

The cup still just stood there, mocking him with its pretty floral pattern.

He heard a voice drifting up the stairway as he glared at the cup, and started thinking about what else he should try when the door to the attic opened.

“…Alright, bye Pastor Williams,” Piper was saying on the phone, hanging up just as she saw Dean. “How goes destroying my plate set?”

Just to show how fruitless it was, Dean grunted, still staring at the cup. Piper smirked a little, and moved to sit nearby as Dean actually spoke. “Why are you calling Pastor Williams? Something happen at the church?”

Piper shook her head. “No, I’m donating the unused food from the club for their soup kitchen,” she answered. “I was calling to confirm that I could drop it off later today.”

“Huh…” Dean grunted considerately, looking away from the cup. “Say hi to him for me.”

He started to concentrate on the cup again, but at his side, Piper pursed her lips, and started to talk again. “You could say hi to him yourself. Just because you’re taking time off of work doesn’t mean that you have to stay locked up here until you figure it out.”

Dean sighed a little, and leaned back in his chair before looking over at her. “Piper, if something-“

“You’ve been really good about it the past few days, haven’t you?” Piper tried, the tiniest nervous quiver peeking through her voice.

“That isn’t the point Piper,” he sighed, starting to drag a hand over his face. “This isn’t the same as you guys, alright-“

“Yes, but it’s scaring me!”

Looking up at Piper and seeing the worry that had caused her exclamation, Dean sort of fell back. He had kind of forgotten that Piper was probably just as stressed as him.

“Dean, between my new job, and worrying about what would happen if I used my powers at work, things have not been normal,” Piper explained. “And you holing up at the house is doing nothing to fix that. You’re the only one around here that always wants to be out and about and it’s freaking me out even more that you’re hiding-“

For a few seconds, Dean’s normal demeanor came out, and he made a face. “Hey! I don’t hide!” he protested, moving to point at her, but then thinking better of it. Just in case.

At the comment, Piper raised an eyebrow challengingly, and Dean had to smile just a bit, even though he covered it up with an annoyed sigh. “Alright. I’ll leave the house today, even go to Quake with you and Phoebe if you want.”

Piper’s concern melted back into a smile, and she moved to stand, but Dean stopped her. “But, Piper, you really don’t need to be scared. You know that right? Even if this is all a little twisted right now, we’re going to figure it out.”

“I know, it’s just…freaky…you know?”

Dean rolled his eyes a little. “Trust me, I know…” he said, remembering all of the beasties he and his dad had ganked over the past few years. “But we’ll either get a hold of how to use it or we’ll get rid of it.” He shrugged a bit, and Piper sighed a little as she stood up and started for the door.

“I really hope it’s that easy…” she said, walking away.

Dean pursed his lips and looked back to the cup on the table.

“So do I…” he muttered as he waved his arm, not expecting anything different than before.

But for the first time, there was a tiny explosion that made Dean reel back, protecting his face from all the tiny shards flying around.

The cup had blown up.

 

(-:-)

 

The building around Prue was bustling with people as she made her way towards her first interview of the week. After quitting her job at the museum the week before, she had of course started job hunting immediately. There were five people at the manor after all: five mouths to feed, five people using the utilities, Sam’s college fund to build up, and at least a dozen repairs to be made around the house. She had lucked out with this one, as someone had actually called and offered the job to her without having applied.

That didn’t make getting there on time any easier though, since she had been the one to drop Sam off at school, and proceeded to get caught in traffic.

She looked ahead, and saw the elevators that would take her to the twelfth floor, and yelled as the doors were about to shut. “Hold the door!”

Someone managed to catch them before they closed, but as soon as she got through them, she dropped her briefcase, spilling the papers all across the dusty floor. She groaned, and ducked down to pick them up. “Damn it. Can you push twelve please?” she asked the man standing next to the panel, before looking back down and trying to shuffle her papers together.

The man, after pressing the button as asked, knelt down next to her. “Here, let me help,” he offered with a smooth British Accent. He picked up a stack of her papers, and made a face of interest. “Eighteenth century French Art? Do you work in the auction house upstairs?”

Prue shook her head. “No, just interviewing,” she answered politely. “Don’t let me get my King Louis’ mixed up.” And then her phone started ringing, and she mentally swore again.

_Does this really all have to be happening right now?_ She asked herself, straightening back up as she got her belongings together. As soon as she latched her briefcase back shut, she picked her phone back up, and hit answer. “Hello?” she asked.

“Hey, Prue,” a familiar voice responded, and her chest tightened with nerves.

“Uh. Andy?” she questioned, doing her best to turn away from the men in the elevator. “How did you get this number?”

“I’m a detective, remember,” responded Andy, almost amused at the question before he went into a more serious tone. “Prue, I think we should talk.”

“Yeah,” Prue affirmed, though she was still trying to get other things done. “It’s just that I am really late to this interview.”

“I didn’t mean for what happened last night to happen, Prue. You have to know that,” Andy continued on, more or less just trying to get it out in the open.

He was direct, she would give him that. Stubborn, and direct, and he didn’t let her hide from him. It had been one of the things she loved about him back in school. Not so much _now_ that she had a good reason to hide from him, because while Dean was worried about who owned their souls, Prue was worried about what would happen if the rest of the world figured out about their powers. Andy was the number one person she was trying to keep it from, especially since they had kind of vanquished (in cop speak: Murdered) Piper’s boyfriend last week.

Additionally, now was still a _really_ bad time for them to be having this conversation.

“Of course, I’m, you know, totally wrong for it anyway,” Prue tried again. She did not want to talk about this. At least not right now. “Stuffy old auction house, I don’t even know why they called.”

“Come on, Prue. Listen to me. We’ve known each other for a long time. We just couldn’t help ourselves. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Prue sighed. “I know, Andy.”

“All we did was make love.”

“I know, Andy,” she repeated, her voice going softer.

Andy sighed, obviously not understanding why he was getting nowhere. “Talk to me, help me out here,” He pleaded. “Why did you sneak out like that?”

The nerve in Prue’s forehead seized up. “I did not sneak out,” she said in a low hiss, just knowing the men in the elevator had to be staring at her “You were asleep. I didn’t want to wake you. And I did write you a note, you know. I just didn’t leave it.” As she said the words, though, the signal started to crackle, leaving her hanging at the end of a conversation she didn’t want to have. “Hello?” she asked the receiver. “Hello?”

When no response came, more dread ran through her. An addition to the rest of her _wonderful_ morning, she had just pissed off the only guy she had really been interested in since Roger. She hung up the phone before looking up at the sign that said she was going up floors. She was still going to be late at this rate.

Irritated, Prue forgot her rule about no magic, and directed her loosely controlled powers to the elevator cables. Immediately the numbers above the elevator door started to rush towards the twelfth floor. She ignored it when she passed the other workers’ floors, only letting off the magic when they reached the twelfth floor.

“That was strange,” commented the man that had helped her with her papers. “Lucky you, huh?”

Prue grit her teeth as they reached her floor, though she still responded, “Yeah. I’m charmed all right,” as she rushed out the door.

 

(-:-)

 

Sam rubbed his eyes tiredly as he walked away from his science classroom. Between the headache throbbing at the edge of his skull, and how he hadn't been sleeping much, he had been pretty miserable any time he was on campus.

At home he had been toughing it out. Prue and Piper were stressed enough because of their jobs (or lack thereof), and upsetting Dean right now would not be the best of plans. He had contemplated going to Phoebe more than once, seeing as she was the only one he thought would understand. But if she knew, she’d spill to the others in a second. Phoebe was not a very good secret keeper.

Not to mention, it wasn't like he was really having visions. Not like Phoebe did at least. He'd had one major migraine, and a smattering of images pressed into his head on the day they had all got their powers.  Since then, it had only been headaches. Ridiculous headaches. Every day. Pounding in his head as he tried to concentrate at school.

Oh. And Nightmares.

He grimaced, trying not to think about them. In the past week, Sam had dreamed every night about people he didn't know going about their daily lives. He usually didn't remember them, only a few details here and there, but one thing was always the same. At the end, there was always a man that would stalk into his dreams. His yellow eyes would narrow suspiciously, almost confused as to why he was there, before holding out a hand. It was always right then that Sam would wake up, his heart pounding and his mind haunted by yellow eyes.

"Sam!"

The voice jarred Sam from looking at the ground where he was walking, concentrating on each step to try and dull the headache, and made him snap his gaze to the source. Immediately the headache started raging even harder for the disturbance, and it was all he could do not to let out a groan as his friend Brady ran up, clapping him on the shoulder with no mind to Sam's ailment.

"Hey, what was with you today during math?" the blonde chirped quickly. "You didn't even realize when Kaylyn tried to pass you an invitation to that party..."

Sam lowered his head, closing his eyes to try and rub the headache out through his forehead again. "She did?" he grumbled, trying to remember. He didn't even remember Kaylyn was in their math class, actually, so obviously he had missed something.

Brady shook his head, and narrowed his eyes as he looked at Sam. "Really, bro, you alright? You don't look too good right now."

"I've got another headache," Sam admitted, only trying to get to his next class without too much incident. The headaches were usually gone when he woke up...maybe a vision could make it go away. Could he force a vision? Did he _want_ to force a vision?

"That's every day this week you've had one. You need to talk to your cousin about taking you to the doctor or something."

"No..." Sam groaned. "The girls are stressed out enough and I don't want Dean to worry. They'll go away eventually, I'm sure..."

"I'm pretty sure you should be a little more concerned than you are right now," Brady protested. "It's weird and you know it."

Sam sighed, trying to focus on the yellow eyes. Consequences be damned the headache needed to stop. Maybe...

He was silent for a few moments, trying to get a vision to come to him, but as much as he focused, nothing happened. He grumbled a string of swears that he had learned from Dean before looking back over at Brady. "Yeah, but there isn't anything I can do about it right now. I've got some Advil in my locker I can take after English..."

"If you're sure," Brady shrugged, losing interest before grinning. "So about Kaylyn's party."

Sam's headache throbbed again. This had better start getting easier.

 

(-:-)

 

“I don’t see why I can’t have any.”

Piper made a face at Dean as they stacked trays of food in the back of the van Quake used for catering. “We’re giving it away Dean. You know: charity. It’s not for you.”

“It’d be like half a piece of chicken,” argued Dean as he moved back and started to close the doors. “Jeez, if I’d have known you would starve me I would have stayed home.” He moved back over, slinging an arm over her shoulder as they walked back in.

Piper rolled her eyes, but smiled. “I’m such a harsh taskmaster,” she played along drolly. “I promise you can just hole up in the attic for the rest of the month if you have to.”

“That’s all I wanted in life.”

Piper and Dean both snorted then, knowing how much of a joke it was. “But seriously, this isn’t that bad, is it?” Piper asked. “You can go in public without worrying…”

“We don’t know that yet,” Dean said, not quite ready to revisit the topic. He might have managed to blow up the cup on demand earlier, but he hadn’t been able to do it afterwards, so he obviously had more practice ahead. All the same, it _was_ kind of nice to be out of the house, even if it _was_ to try and make Piper feel better about their situation. “I’m just happy that Sam doesn’t have to deal with all of this. Kid shouldn’t have to worry about it while he’s in high school.”

“He’s only four years younger than you, and believe it or not, he’s already worrying about it,” Piper argued back as they started walking back into the restaurant. “He’s been dancing around us to try and keep from bothering us, and he hasn’t been sleeping right since this all started. He’s just as worried as you and me, even if he won’t let us know. Besides, who’s to say he won’t get powers?”

“I don’t think it’s a coming of age thing, Piper. If he has powers, he would have gotten them at the same time we did.”

“We don’t know that.”

“We checked the book.”

“The book doesn’t have everything in it. Maybe Sam is special.”

“Yes, maybe he lucked out and doesn’t have to deal with this. Look, I’m not saying Sam will never get powers, but right now, we shouldn’t ask why he hasn’t. We have enough problems with _our_ powers.”

Piper made a face. “Yeah, you’re probably right…” she grumbled, before looking at her watch. “It’s almost time to go…where’s Tommy?”

“Your delivery guy?”

“Yeah, he was supposed to be here ten minutes ago,” Piper muttered, mostly to herself as she looked around, and caught a server waving to her. She shrugged Dean’s arm off of her shoulder, and rushed over to the server, passing Phoebe as she helped pass out people’s checks.

While it wasn’t really a paying job, Phoebe didn’t really have anywhere else to be at the moment, so she had taken to helping Piper out with her stressful job at Quake. Mostly it was little things: helping to bus tables, passing out menus, but hey: it was something to do.

“Here you go,” she said with a smile as she dropped by a couple, the man tall and dark haired; the woman petite with pretty red hair.

As the man turned to Phoebe and thanked her, taking the check from her, her breath caught in her throat. From her time in New York, she had heard so many critical acclaims about this man, saw his pictures all over the city. She had dreamed of meeting him once or twice, when she was stuck at her shitty cashier job and just hoping for an out that didn’t involve going home. Obviously she hadn’t lucked out like she had hoped, but still, seeing him here was a dream come true.

“Excuse me,” she gasped, “but aren’t you Stefan?”

He turned to her and smiled charmingly, though his eyebrows knit just a bit. “Yes. I’m sorry, do we know each other?”

“Oh, highly doubtful. I’m just familiar with your work,” Phoebe rattled on, still smiling. “Like everyone else in the world.”

“Well, I don’t know about that, but I’ll take a compliment from a gorgeous woman,” Stephan said.

Looking over at the red head at Stephan’s side, Phoebe smiled apologetically before leaning in and lowering her voice a little. “I’m sure your girlfriend must appreciate that.”

Stephan didn’t even look in the red-head’s direction. He leaned forward and whispered, “She’s not my girlfriend.”

Phoebe raised an eyebrow and leaned in further, almost sure that she was getting a death glare from the woman next to him. “Then why are you whispering?” she countered.

There was a sigh of irritation, and they turned back to the red head. “Excuse me,” she said dangerously, sliding off of the barstool upon which she sat, and heading for the door.

“Oooh, okay…” Phoebe said sort of apologetically to Stephan. “Well, it was really nice meeting you.”

“You too,” Stephan said, but catching her before she walked off, while moving to scribble something on a napkin. “Listen, listen. I’m in town for a couple of days doing a Porsche shoot. If you’re interested…” He moved to hand her the napkin. “Stop by. I would love to photograph you.” Phoebe’s face went slack with shock. He raised an eyebrow and followed up with, “You _do_ model don’t you?”

“In my dreams, yeah,” Phoebe said, just a little awestruck, but taking the napkin with a smile before walking back towards the main part of the restaurant, where Piper snagged her by the arm, looking more than a little distressed.

“Driver called in sick: can you help with a delivery?”

“Sure,” Phoebe replied, only half listening. “Hey, is that guy at the bar staring at me?”

“There are a lot of guys at the bar staring at you.”

“The one at the far end. Tall, dark, brooding, very New York.”

Frazzled, Piper looked over Phoebe’s shoulder again. “Sorry, no,” she blurted before running off.

Raising an eyebrow, Phoebe looked back over to where Stephan had been sitting, only to see that he wasn’t there.

 

(-:-)

 

Having made it up to Buckland’s Auction House on time, Prue had calmed down considerably. The receptionist was a cool woman who had completely understood the delay, and had shuffled her through the door almost immediately.

“He’s seen your resume and is very impressed,” the woman was saying as they walked towards the owner’s office. “I gotta tell you, though, he’s already blown out six other applicants.”

Prue shook her head. “I still don’t know why he’s interested,” she said, trying to sound humble, but also trying to get an answer. She hadn’t even called to see if Buckland’s was hiring. “I never even applied.

“He likes what you did at the museum,” the receptionist explained. “Even though your ex-boss trashed you. What’s Roger got against you anyway?”

“Hard to say,” Prue started, the slightest bitter tone coming into her voice, remembering Roger. “Unless shattering his ego counts for something. He’s also my ex-fiance.”

Knowingly, the receptionist laughed. “Got it,” she said, before moving to open the door. “You ready?”

Prue nodded. “Yeah.”

Without another thought, the receptionist pushed open the door, and Prue was more than a little disconcerted to see a face she had seen only minutes ago. It was the man from the elevator: the one that had helped her with her papers, saw her use her powers, and overheard her conversation with Andy. And just when her day was getting better.

“Rex Buckland, this is Prue Halliwell,” the receptionist introduced. “Interviewing for the new specialist.”

Rex smiled at Prue. “Actually we’ve already met,” he said, almost sensing the terror radiating off of her. “Welcome to my stuffy auction house.”

 

(-:-)

 

When the three middle Halliwells got to the church, there was already a small crowd of volunteers waiting near the drop-off doors. The Halliwells had never been incredibly religious, but Grams had taken them all to Sunday school as children, and the church had remained dear to their hearts. Piper had arranged to donate the unused food to them when she started at Quake, which obviously wasn’t going to go unappreciated.

Dean was the first one out of the van, moving to get to the doors and continuing a conversation they had been having on the way over about Prue. “Phoebe, it’s not like we’ve got the simplest situation right now. You can’t expect her to chill out after her first screw in six months.”

Phoebe rolled her eyes, hopping out after him with Piper. “I know, but you would think she’d be a _little_ mellower.”

“It’s just so un-Prue-like to have sex on the first date. Especially with everything else going on. And she was the one that thought she should stay away from Andy now that we’re…” she trailed off, glancing at the people behind them as Dean opened the doors to the van. She pursed her lips. “You know.”

“Come on,” Phoebe prodded. “You’ve never had sex on the first date?”

Piper wrinkled her brow and looked over at her younger sister. Even Dean was smirking a little bit. “No, have you?” she asked, but before the Dean’s grin could get any wider, she cut them both off from answering. “Don’t answer that.”

Dean pulled out the first few trays of food and moved to hold them out to the line of people coming up. Phoebe started pulling individuals from him to pass out.

“It’s not like it’s a regular thing,” Phoebe said lightly. “Of course, now that I’m a witch I can see if it’s gonna be any good or not before it actually…” She trailed off, as she handed a tray to a man that had walked up. “Hi.”

Piper’s eyes had gone wide, and Dean looked a little annoyed with her as the man walked away.”

“What’s the matter with you?” Piper exclaimed. “Are you out of your mind?”

Phoebe just glanced back at her. “Come on, it’s not like he took me literally.”

“You don’t know that. He could have!”

“Piper chill out,” Dean said, a little more relaxed about at least this part of things. He’d known about witches and magic far longer than the girls had, and he was more used to how people could be incredibly ignorant if they wanted to be. “People don’t take it seriously when people say you’re a witch; even hunters will assume you’re just joking or an amateur.” He passed out the last of his trays before looking back at Phoebe. “Although, for the eighteenth time, don’t use your powers like that. As noble as the pursuit for better orgasms is, magic is not a toy.”

Phoebe sneered. Piper rolled her eyes. “I just think we need to be extra careful,” Piper said moving so that more volunteers could get to the van. Phoebe and Dean followed suit.

“There’s careful and then there’s paranoid,” Phoebe said, just as a familiar face came around from the side of the van.

Pastor Williams was one of the senior priests at the church, who had started there at about the time Dean and Sam had gotten to be Sunday school age. In the large, multiage class the Halliwells had all attended through middle school, he had been the one to give their sermons. He had been incredibly understanding to all of their individual plights: Piper having to deal with everyone arguing around her, Phoebe being the family disappointment, Prue being the oldest and having to take care of everyone, and Sam being the youngest. Sam, actually, still attended the teen service on Tuesday nights. Dean was the only one that had never shared his problems with the pastor, but had asked the man for help translating Latin when he had started helping his father with hunts.

“Phoebe, I didn’t know you were back in town he greeted.

The three of them turned and smiled, Phoebe rushing forward to give him a hug. “Hey!”

Pastor Williams chuckled a little. “Take a bit out of the Big Apple, did you?”

“Oh, I ate the worm,” Phoebe responded, before pulling back. The van was empty now, so she didn’t really have to stick around. “Hey, I’m gonna go get some gum. Anyone want anything?”

“No thanks,” Pastor Williams answered, at the same time Dean said, “Nah,” and Piper shook her head.

Phoebe nodded, and waved at the Pastor. “Okay, good to see you,” she said before departing for the nearest news stand.

“You too,” Pastor Williams greeted, before looking at Dean with a grin. “And Dean, I thought you were supposed to go back to traveling with your dad when July came around.”

Dean shrugged a little. “Things came up,” he answered, not really elaborating but still smiling. He liked Pastor Williams, but he didn’t need to know about all of their problems. Especially the supernatural ones. “What about you? You ever get through that copy of Mark I sent you?”

Pastor Williams groaned, and Dean laughed a little. “Per aspera ad astra,” the pastor declared, admitting he had serious difficulty. But he still sounded like he had done it. For a few moments, they chatted on the text and its difficulty, as Dean had a rough time of it, too.

Piper however wasn’t joining in on such fun. She was staring at the tall doors of the church, remembering the show she had seen on TV earlier. The skies were overcast, making her feel like if she walked up, thunder might clap above her. Even if Dean had told her that churches _weren’t_ protected, that still didn’t mean what the documentary had implied wasn’t true. Witches could still be evil. Witches _were_ still dangerous.

Off to the side, Dean and Pastor Williams noticed how she had zoned out. The pastor raised an eyebrow. “Piper, you okay?” he said, calling her out of his thoughts.

Piper blinked at him for a second. “What?” she asked, trying to consider. “Oh, yeah, fine…just having some trouble with…things.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is it something you would like to talk about?”

Dean’s brows furrowed a little. “I doubt it,” he said, trying to discourage her before they got into this. “It isn’t much of a spiritual issue.” Again, Dean liked Pastor Williams, but he _did not_ need to know about their problems. In his experience, the religious were the first ones to declare anything evil, regardless of whether it was a creature of hell or not. Dean might not like witches, but he could ignore Leviticus long enough to know some witches didn’t use their powers for evil. The only holy-man he trusted to know a demon from a drunk was an ex-hunter in Minnesota with a serious arsenal hidden behind the altar.

Piper didn’t seem to get the hint though. “I don’t know you might be able to help.”

Dean sighed a little to himself and went to close the van doors while Piper stepped closer to Pastor Williams.

“Alright, so here’s the deal,” she started, trying to find the words. “I’ve got this friend. Has a little problem. Could be bad. Not quite sure what to tell her.”

“You wanna go inside?”

A shot of fear went through Piper’s chest, despite knowing nothing would happen. “No. I mean. I’ve gotta get going.”

The pastor’s brow knit. “So what’s the problem.”

“Well, she kinda, sort of thinks she might be a witch.”

Pastor Williams only looked more concerned, and where he was leaning against the vehicle, Dean rolled his eyes.

“That’s not a good thing, is it?” Piper asked, seeing his reaction.

He seemed to shrug a little. “Certainly not a question I get every day. How well do you remember Sunday school lessons?”

Piper only shrugged a little. She hadn’t really been to church since she had gone off to college. Sam had started lecturing them last week on the merit of biblical demons versus the real thing, and how prayer, holy water and other Judeo-Christian practices could help against creatures. Aside from that, she didn’t remember much.

He continued. “I suggest Exodus 22:18. Thou shall not suffer a witch to live.”

And boy did that sound dangerous. “Meaning?” she choked out.

“If you go by the old school: it means put her to death. She’s evil.”

Piper’s eyes bulged, and Dean barely choked down a sigh.

 

(-:-)

 

Phoebe didn’t have to walk too far to the nearest news stand. She glanced over the magazines while grabbing a pack of gum, picking out a copy of _People_ before going to the register.

“Here you go,” she said to the cashier, before looking over to an elderly couple standing nearby.

“Three-twenty-five,” the cashier said, at about the same time the old man said, “Should be the grandchildren’s birthdays.”

Phoebe looked closer. The old man was holding a lottery ticket, with his wife next to him as they tried to pick out the numbers. The man caught her eye as she looked over and smiled. “It’s a ten million dollar jackpot,” he explained. “Who knows? I mean today may be our lucky day. If not, we’re gonna lose our house.”

Phoebe frowned, thinking how that sucked. She looked at the lottery tickets, considering buying them a few more if it meant they could have a bigger chance.

When her fingers brushed over the orange paper, though, there was a flash behind her eyes of the lottery announcements. Ping pong balls line up across a TV screen, rolling over again and again showing her the numbers.

“Four, sixteen, nineteen, thirty, thirty two and forty,” she said outloud the second the vision ended. She jarred herself out of the stupor of the vision to turn back to them. “Those are the winning numbers.

The elderly couple looked confused, but the cashier just snorted. Yeah right, lady. You want this stuff or don’t you?”

But Phoebe just walked over to the old man. “Four, sixteen, nineteen, thirty, thirty two and forty,” she repeated. “Trust me, Mister. Today is your lucky day.” She walked over to the stand, and picked out a ticket herself. “I think I’ll buy one of these lottery tickets too…”

As soon as the ticket was filled out, she excitedly ran back to the van. Dean and Phoebe were just getting in. Dean raised an eyebrow when he saw how excited she was.

“What are you smiling about?” he asked.

Phoebe just hopped into the car after him.

“Nothing.”

 

(-:-)

 

After her interview had gotten underway, Prue had begun to think that maybe she had been worried over nothing. Rex Buckland was a very professional businessman who seemed to know what he was doing. He’d been happy with all of her answers to his questions, and he seemed to have forgotten about the elevator.

“So how many divisions did you correct?” he asked, following up a question about Prue’s duties at the museum.

“Seven,” she replied, “including the Carlton Estate. It should be on my resume.”

Rex turned a page in the stack he held on the many pieces she had acquired or validated for the museum. “Franklin Carlton,” he stated, reading off the page. “That’s quite a coup.”

Prue nodded, keeping up good form for her potential boss. “Well I tend to be on the persistent side,” she said. “I usually get what I want.”

“I don’t doubt it. It’s a shame, though that you think you’re…how did you put it in the elevator?”

Prue’s face began to fall as he started to say that. Of course he would bring that up when she had thought she was nearly home free.

“…Totally wrong for the job?”

That part especially wasn’t fair. She hadn’t even been thinking when she said that, just trying to get Andy to realize she was busy. Her eyes narrowed. “That was a private phone conversation,” she said firmly, trying to keep her tone civil.

“Hardly.”

There was a beat where Prue considered just ripping into him for his audacity, but she was better than that. She could keep this professional. “You called me, remember?” she stated. “Not the other way around. And while we’re at it, I think it’s incredibly unfair that you eavesdrop on a private call and then you judge me based entirely on what you thought you heard.”

Rex had the grace to look at least mildly apologetic, although he still didn’t seem like it had changed his mind. “I apologize. It was unfair of me,” he said, apparently just as professional in his own way. “I’m new to all of this. I’ve only just taken over the house from my father, so I’m very protective of it. But knowing that, what you did at the museum, attracting the younger market, it’s totally consistent of what I want to do here. It’s just when all these qualifications are signed, it’s very important to me that whoever I hire truly wants to be here.” As he trailed off the intercom beeped. He looked away from Prue to speak with the receptionist. “Yes?”

“Excuse me, Mr. Buckland,” the woman apologized through the speaker. “Your next interview is waiting. Should I reschedule him?”

Rex looked up, and caught Prue’s eye for a moment, considering. “No,” he eventually said. “I think we’re done here.” He let go of the button, and Prue began to stand and collect her briefcase, knowing that her time was up.

“Well, thanks for your time,” she said politely before walking towards the door. Part of her stomach felt like it was sinking. With four of them in the house, two of whom didn’t work, and the dozens of repairs that needed to be made at the manor, she needed the job. A job she had blown a chance at because she couldn’t talk to Andy truthfully.

Thinking about it, she realized she had reached the door, and that she was not okay leaving it at that. She turned around to face him again. “My area of expertise ranges from Ming Dynasty to a Mark McGuire rookie baseball card. You name it, I can identify it. Now I may not have sought out this job originally, but I do want it. And I am definitely right for it.”

Rex’s face didn’t seem to change on the matter, but just getting the words out made Prue feel much better about it. Even if she doubted she would get the job, she walked out with a marginally higher confidence level than she had come in with.

 

(-:-)

 

There was a furious pounding in Sam’s head as he strolled next to Brady. School had let out fifteen minutes ago, and Brady had planned on them working on their history project together at his house. The plans had been made weeks ago, though, so Sam hadn’t accounted for his magic-related headaches, and was mentally arguing with himself on whether to back out or not.

Brady, for his part, seemed to be debating it too. Like anyone else that had been paying attention, he had seen the looks of pain on Sam’s face for the past week. Brady had suggested it more than once that he should just go home, even though he was relying on Sam’s help on the project for a passing grade this semester.

It wasn’t like going home would change anything, though. Sam would be able to keel over in the privacy of his own home, maybe even take a nap to get a dream-vision so the headache would go away. Yet the headache would build just as quickly as before, and he’d still have to do his homework.

At Brady’s fifth insistent comment that he just go home, Sam grit his teeth further.

“Sam, you can’t even walk straight,” Brady said flatly. “You need to go home or see a doctor or something.”

What was sad was that he wasn’t exaggerating, and Sam knew it. His steps had begun to stagger with how bad the pain had gotten, and he’d been keeping his eyes shut so tight that his vision blurred when he opened them. “It won’t help anything,” he said. “No one is going to be home tonight. I just need to sit down.”

“You’ve been sitting down at school all day and that obviously didn’t help,” returned Brady. “Come on, dude, something isn’t right.”

Sam shook his head, and instantly regretted it when the motion just made the sides of his head throb harder, sending a wave of nausea into his chest. Without another step down the sidewalk, he audibly hissed at the pain, and suddenly found that remaining upright was too difficult to manage under current circumstances.

When he hit the concrete beneath him, he heard Brady yelling, and he felt the pavement scrape his elbows. He didn’t pay attention, though, because for that moment, the pain in his head only got worse, making him feel as if his skull was being pressed apart from the inside.

Just as it felt like there were cracks forming in his skull, an image flashed behind his eyes, just like in his dreams. This time though, there was only one vision.

There was a girl, blonde, with multiple ear piercings and wearing a pink t-shirt bawling her eyes out as a man screamed at her. Sam didn’t know her name, but he knew that the man was her father, and that he was furious with her for something she had done. It was only a flash, and for the first time, it wasn’t followed by a pair of eyes.

The moment passed, and Sam blinked back into reality. He stared at the sky for a few long moments, trying to make sense of what had happened, laying down awkwardly on top of his text-book-stuffed backpack. The pain in his skull had faded fast. Brady was hovering next to him, along with a woman walking her dog, and a mail man that had been walking by. All of them looked exceptionally worried.

Sam blinked at Brady first, his cheeks flushing from both confusion and embarrassment. “Err…”

His friend didn’t look any more impressed than he had been a few moments ago. “Okay, no,” he said flatly. “We’re walking to my house, and my mom is driving you home.”

With that, Brady and the mail-man hauled Sam to his feet. As he regained his balance, Sam couldn’t help but think that might be for the best.

“Yeah, okay…” he managed to mutter, starting to walk a bit more surely towards Brady’s house.

 

(-:-)

 

Andy glanced out the car window as he and Morris sat outside of Quake. As many girls as had been abducted, Andy had begun to think outside the box. If some psycho had been raping or killing these women, they would have known. A body would have been found, or a woman would have turned up at home with severe injuries. Someone would have reported _something_ at the very least. His less orthodox conclusions, as always, were freaking his partner out.

“What do you want me to say?” he said in his own defense. “This does not feel right to me. I can’t help it.”

Morris looked long suffering. “Here we go again…”

“I mean, where are they, right? What’s this guy doing to these poor women?”

“Thinking alien abduction, are ya?” Morris challenged, telling him in fewer words that his ideas were getting crazy.

“I’m serious, Morris.”

“I know. That’s what scares me,” Morris sighed. “Let me guess: favorite movie when growing up? Ghostbusters?”

Andy huffed indignantly.

“Look, we got a crazy, Trudeau. Likes the pretty ladies. That’s it, the end. If he comes back, we’re gonna grab him, tag him, make the world a safer place. That too hard to follow?”

Without answering the real question, and submitting to Morris’ idea of what they were dealing with, Andy just looked out the window.

“Evil Dead Two,” he said.

Morris looked over at him, and Andy smiled.

“Favorite movie growing up. Just for the record.”

His partner rolled his eyes again, leaving Andy to go back to watching the restaurant just as a sleek black car pulled up, and none other than Prue Halliwell stepped out. She was dressed in black, and looked gorgeous as she handed off her keys to the valet.

Morris had been looking elsewhere. “Bank across the street,” he was suggesting as Andy reached for the door handle. “I think we should grab the ATM tapes and see if…”

As if he hadn’t realized that Morris was speaking, Andy popped open the door.

“Whoa-whoa, where are you going? No. Forget it Romeo. You’re not blowing our cover!”

Andy just sighed, and looked back, ducking under the hood of the car to look at him. “Come on, Morris. Cut me some slack. I have to talk to her.” Morris still looked stern. “Please? Five minutes. That’s all I need.”

With a sigh, Morris raised up his right arm, indicating that he would keep an eye on the time, and Andy smiled at his win. Without another second wasted, he rushed into Quake to see if he could catch up to Prue.

 

(-:-)

 

Dean watched in amusement from the bar as Piper rushed around during the dinner rush. It wasn’t like he enjoyed seeing his family stressed out, but as an honorary little brother, he still it entertaining how frazzled she was.

“Cindy, come on. Your salmon’s up,” Piper instructed, swooping back past the door to the kitchen, and harping on a bus boy. “Hector, you’re way behind. We need clean plates.”

She huffed a little as she moved over to where Dean was sitting. He just grinned at her. “Come on Piper, you can chill a little.”

“Chill?” Piper growled at him, not noticing how Prue was walking towards them. “I am not going to chill. I’ve nearly frozen three people and we are so understaffed it isn’t even funny. Can you please go and…”

As if not realizing how stressed her sister was, Prue walked up and interrupted. “Did either of you give Andy my number?” she demanded.

Piper’s expression became more pinched at the question. “No, why?”

Prue looked at Dean pointedly, who started to raise his arms as if to say he was innocent, but Piper put a hand on his arm to stop the movement. Dean looked a little put out and agitated, remembering how his powers might have gone off by accident if he continued. “When would I have even talked to Andy, Prue?”

With a roll of her eyes, Prue added “Never mind” to her statements, and slid onto the stool next to Dean before Piper put her face down on the bar.

“Remind me why I wanted to do this for a living.”

“At this rate it looks like you’re the only one of us who’s going to be doing _anything_ for a living,” muttered Prue. “I think I blew my interview.”

Dean nudged her with his elbow. “Can’t have gone that bad,” he said with a smile. “Besides, assuming I can get control of this bullshit with my hands, I still have a job.”

Prue opened her mouth to reply, knowing he couldn’t take much more time off. Yet something caught her eye before she could say as much. Phoebe was on the other side of the restaurant wearing a slinky black dress, chatting up some guy with dark hair.

“What’s Phoebe doing here?” she asked sharply.

Dean swiveled on the stool a little. He made a disapproving face. “Flirting.”

“And she’s wearing Armani…” Prue grumbled. “Where did she get that?”

“Not from my closet,” Piper said shortly before hearing someone yelling for her from the front doors. She groaned again. “Gotta go.”

As Piper walked off, though, Prue stood up and started stalking over towards her sister. Sensing danger, Dean stood up too, following her warily.

Phoebe saw them approaching and smiled. “Prue, hi,” she greeted, sounding like a high class socialite, as if the dress changed who she was. She looked at the man sitting across from her, Stefan who she had met earlier that day. “This is my other sister,” she explained to him. “Prue, this is Stefan, the photographer.”

He looked up at her with a smile. “Pleasure,” he said, reaching a hand out.

Politely, Prue took his hand shaking it firmly. “Likewise,” she said, before looking back to Phoebe. “Nice dress.”

Phoebe’s eyes seemed to dull at this topic, and as Dean sensed the argument that was about to explode all over Piper’s restaurant, he started to step forward as Phoebe said, “Don’t worry. It’s not yours.”

“I know,” Prue said lowly. “I could never afford it.”

“Ah, will you excuse the three of us,” Dean interrupted, smiling with all the charm he could muster as he started to tug Prue back towards the kitchen, and looked at Phoebe intensely enough that she stood up.

“Armani?” Prue said acidly as they made their way towards the kitchen, barely making it through the double doors before her voice raised to at least twice the volume. “How are you going to pay for that? You’re broke!”

“Not for long,” Phoebe defended herself.

“Guys, come on, it’s just a dress, this isn’t worth fighting over,” Dean started

But despite his trying to keep the peace, but Prue interrupted him. “What does that mean? You didn’t use your powers again, did you?”

The _P_ word immediately told Dean that there would be a fight one way or another, and he wasn’t going to be able to back Phoebe. He looked over at her with his eyebrows lowering, and Phoebe just glared at Prue.

“Maybe, are you telling me _you_ haven’t?” Phoebe barbed back.

“Phoebe,” Dean sighed. “I thought we talked about this.”

But Phoebe rolled her eyes. “We didn’t _talk_ about anything,” she started.

Just then, Piper brushed up, looking frantic and frazzled. “What are you guys doing in here?!” she blurted insistently.

“Same thing we do at home,” said Phoebe darkly.

“What did you do, huh?” Prue asked. “Go to the track, play the market? What?”

Dean moved to stand next to Piper, dragging a hand over his face and feeling a little sick that Phoebe had used her powers for that.

“The lottery,” Phoebe confirmed, looking entirely unconcerned about the implications.

“Phoebe,” Dean groaned.

“What did you want me to do?” she replied, steadily defending her decision. “Ignore the premonition? Not help a needy family? That’s what we’re supposed to do, right?”

“No,” Prue growled back. “We are _not_ supposed to use our powers for our own personal gain. That’s what it says in the Book of Shadows, and _that_ is what hunters will go after you for!”

Piper’s face was getting close to panic. “Not so loud!” she hissed, starting to breathe heavily as she looked about at the staff, who were thankfully not paying attention.

Phoebe’s voice only got louder. “You said we needed money, right? Well I’m getting some.”

“Not like this though!” Dean growled at her struggling to keep his hands by his sides.

“Come on you guys!” Piper said again, her voice shaking, just in time for the door to open and for Andy to walk through.

Looking at Prue, he was completely ignorant of the bus-boy heading his way, and just when he said Prue’s name, they collided. The bus-boys armful of plates went flying, and Piper gasped, her arms flying up.

“Watch it!” she yelped, only for everything in the room to suddenly freeze.

The Halliwells were silent for a few seconds as they took it in, but as soon as it set in, Piper started to hyperventilate. “Oh no. No, no, no, no, no, not again…”

“Damn it you two,” Dean growled, moving to turn Piper around and calm her down.

“This is my fault?” Phoebe asked as Prue just skittered towards the door. Looking out, her eyes widened when she realized the rest of the restaurant was still in full swing.

“This is everyone’s fault,” Dean growled. “C’mon Piper, look at me…”

Piper just kept trying to stammer out how this shouldn’t be happening, and then realizing that something else was wrong. “You guys aren’t freezing?”

“I guess it doesn’t work on witches,” Phoebe said. “How long does it last?”

Piper shook her head, and closed her eyes, gripping Dean’s wrists in an attempt to settle herself down. “I don’t know,” she answered. “Not that long.”

Prue looked over her shoulder, towards the restaurant doors. “Uh, it doesn’t work out there.”

More terror made its way into Piper’s chest, and she dug her fingers further into Dean’s wrist. “Oh tell me this isn’t happening?” she choked, sounding close to tears.

“It’s okay, Piper. Just chill out,” Dean directed. “It’s gonna be alright…”

But then Prue spoke up again as she saw Darrel Morris walking in through the front door, looking for his partner. “Oh god, Andy’s partner just came in and he’s heading this way.”

“What are we gonna do?” Piper gasped.

Phoebe looked at Piper, sort of realizing that Prue and Dean were apparently right about magic being trouble. Just because her powers weren’t as overt as theirs didn’t mean that she shouldn’t treat them as dangerous. She looked over at Prue. “Stall him,” she directed, before looking for some way to help.

Prue rushed out the door, talking to Morris as he kept trying to move to the door, who certainly didn’t look impressed. Phoebe moved to where the bus-boy was handling dishes, and started pushing them all down and back into the tray.

Dean just kept talking to Piper, ignoring how her nails were cutting into his skin as she struggled to regain her breath. “Okay, breathe, Piper. Breathe.”

Prue’s voice came from the other side of the door loudly. “…I really haven’t seen Andy,” she told Morris, just before they came in through the kitchen doors.

Everything in the room unfroze at the perfect moment, almost looking seamless to Morris and Andy. Phoebe grabbed the tray out of the bus-boy’s hands, saving the dishes. Andy looked around sharply at having bumped into someone, and Piper was managing to look reprimanding towards both Andy and her bus-boy.

But Dean hadn’t realized that while calming Piper down, he had stepped directly in front of a chef trying to carry a tray of food towards the door. When she collided with his back, Dean’s muscles tensed and his hands flew out, magic flying through his fingers.

There was a bang.  The stove behind Phoebe Andy and the bus-boy burst apart, sending shrapnel flying and making them all hit the ground. Dean ducked and covered as the chef stumbled, falling to the ground while her tray showered Dean and Piper with food. Dishes clattered on the ground, breaking despite Phoebe’s efforts, and sending shattered porcelain across the floor.

Just when things had been under control, the kitchen was a mess again.

Andy and Morris sprung into action, dragging Prue, Phoebe and the bus-boy back while another chef came up with a fire extinguisher. Prue looked over the situation with wide eyes, not being able to do anything.

Where she was standing with marinara-sauce dripping down her front, Piper couldn’t help but let a wail escape her throat as tears started rolling down her cheeks.

Dean looked at the situation and staggered to his feet. He tried to take care of the most important problem, grabbing Piper around the waist and pulling her to the side where she could face away from the chaos and hide her face in his shoulder. He tried not to think about how this was his fault. He tried not to think of how he never would have been able to nearly set Piper’s restaurant on fire when he didn’t have powers.

“What the hell was that?!” Darrel shouted, hauling Phoebe to her feet. She shared a look at Prue, then they both looked over to Dean and Piper. Dean saw them looking, and immediately looked away.

“I don’t know,” Prue said quickly, moving so that the officers wouldn’t see Dean or Piper basically hiding. “Whatever it is, it can’t be good.”

“Exploding ovens are _definitely_ not good for a busy kitchen,” Andy declared. “Could be a gas issue. I’m gonna call the fire department to look at that, and clear the front room.” He and Morris walked out, presumably to shut the restaurant down for the night

The chefs and waiters in the kitchen grumbled, but there was a general murmuring of assent as they walked out after them.

Piper looked up from Dean’s shoulder and started to wipe her eyes as Prue and Phoebe walked over to them. She didn’t even really look at them as she started to follow her staff. After all, she had to call the owner, and make sure that all of the customers left, _and_ reschedule anyone who had had a reservation.

She looked at her sisters for a long second before growling, “I hate being a witch.”

With that, she walked out of the kitchen, completely brushing off Phoebe when she reached out to comfort her, leaving the other three alone in a burnt kitchen.

Phoebe and Prue both looked sadly at Dean, who grit his teeth and started to follow Piper, not saying a word.

 

(-:-)

The day afterwards found Piper sitting in the attic in Dean’s stead. Everyone’s argument and the incident at the restaurant had put a spell of foul moods on the house, and it didn’t look like it was lightening up. Dean had locked himself in the basement, convinced that his powers were still too dangerous to keep. Phoebe and Prue weren’t talking to each other. Piper herself had done her best not to cry herself to sleep from how stressed she was.

With a few hours left to go before she had to be at work again, she had gone back to the attic to look through the Book of Shadows. She had hoped that trying to sort through her thoughts and fears about being a witch, she would forget about how much would need to be done when she went and dealt with setting the kitchen back up.

So engrossed in it, she almost didn’t hear the door open, and didn’t actually look up until she saw Sam sit in front of her, looking tired and concerned. Since it was Saturday, he had tried to sleep in, but with no luck. “Hey,” he greeted. “What’s with everyone downstairs?”

Piper looked up at him and made a face. “We might have had an incident at the restaurant last night,” she explained shortly. Sam hadn’t been awake when everyone had gotten back, so of course he hadn’t known.

The look on his face grew more concerned. “Like a Phoebe and Prue fighting incident, or a powers incident?”

Piper swallowed hard, and looked back to the book as she closed it, and hugged it to her chest. “Both,” she managed to choke out. “We had to close the restaurant because of an exploding oven.” She choked on the last few words, and couldn’t even pretend to smile for him.

Sam’s eyes widened, and he surged forward to hug her, trying to be comforting. “Aw man, everything’s okay, though, right? No one saw? No one knew?”

“No…” Piper managed to get out. She was trying not to cry as he hugged her, or to burden him with her fears.

He pulled back though, and gave her a look that said he knew she was going to have to spill one way or another. Sam wanted her to spill, actually. They had been trying as hard as they could to not worry him, and it wasn’t working. He wanted to be a part of this, even if his own powers weren’t exactly as obvious as theirs were. Even if he was hiding them so they wouldn’t worry more. “Then that’s not what’s bothering you. If everything was okay at Quake…”

“That’s it!” Piper declared, curling herself over the book further. “Everything wasn’t okay. We are so screwed now that we’re witches. Phoebe doesn’t think so because she’s not afraid of anything, and while I envy her for it, she’s going to get in trouble. Dean is trying to keep it together, but he won’t go out in public with his powers now, and Prue…”

“Piper, it’s going to be fine. This doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” Sam tried to say, sitting across from her and trying to calm her down, while inside, he was afraid of the same thing.

“But that doesn’t mean it’s a good thing either. It’s like our whole lives have been like everybody else’s: rushing off to work, buying shoes, trying to figure out what’s for dinner and suddenly, we wake up and everything is different,” Piper choked. “We’re witches now, and we don’t know anything about it. We don’t know why we have them, what they mean. We don’t even know where they came from. How do we know it’s not from evil? That we won’t become evil?”

Sam swallowed hard, and tried to keep talking to her. He knew almost as much as she did after all, and unlike Phoebe, he wasn’t entirely sure whether their powers could be trusted. “We’ve been over this. You’re good witches.”

“What about Jeremy? What about all the other things he said would be coming after us? How do we know we’re not just like them? Sam, we’re _dangerous,_ ” Piper continued arguing. “ _That’s_ what scares me. We just don’t know…” She shook her head, putting the book down next to her. “I just wanna be normal again. As messed up as that was, is that too much to ask for?”

“Piper, listen to me,” replied Sam looking at her intently. “You are the most caring person I have ever met. I mean, that, alright. You’re always there to help anybody, even strangers. You’ve been doing it your whole life. Even if we don’t know where these powers came from, there’s no way that you’ve been given this…this gift if it wasn’t to do good things with it. Whether or not we figure it all out, we’re going to protect the innocent just like the book said, alright?” Piper looked dubious, but Sam raised his eyebrows in challenge.

“If you want to hear it from someone else I can drag Dean or Phoebe up here.”

That made Piper laugh, and Sam smiled.

“You’ve got nothing to be afraid of,” he said, moving to tap her on the shoulder affectionately, and to pick up the book. He was more or less positive that keeping it near her right now was completely going to reverse his pep-talk, so he’d take it with him for now. “Anyway, you might want to get downstairs before Phoebe tears up the front room. She said something about a photoshoot, and needs to borrow your keys.”

Piper seemed to calm down after that, and smiled, standing up. With that, they both walked out of the room.

 

(-:-)

 

Prue tried to fight down the butterflies in her stomach as she sat across from Andy for lunch. Things had been hectic the night before. Andy had stayed at the restaurant with Morris until the fire department showed up, and they had talked long enough to schedule lunch together.

She was trying not to feel nervous. After all, this wasn’t her first date with him, and it wasn’t like they were teenagers. It was just a conversation. Well, a conversation about how they’d had sex and how it shouldn’t have happened. Awkward, maybe, but it shouldn’t be nerve wracking.

The real problem was that she was going to have to tell him that it couldn’t happen again. What had happened at the restaurant had been more than enough to convince her of that.

A waitress dropped by, placing coffee in front of the two of them. Andy smiled at her, and said thanks before looking towards Prue.

Simultaneously, they started talking.

“Uh Andy-“

“Look, Prue…”

They both staggered to a stop before trying again.

“You go first.”

“Go ahead.”

They stopped again, and laughed. At least it was a _fun_ awkward.

This time, Andy got his words in first. “I’m not sorry it happened, Prue.”

Prue bit her lip a little. “Well, I have to be honest with you Andy, I am,” she said. His face started to fall again, and she felt guilty. “I mean, not because I didn’t enjoy it. I did. Especially the…um.”

Andy laughed a little. “Yeah. That was great.”

“And of course so was the…uh.”

“That was nice too.”

Prue fought the smile off of her face, though. This wasn’t supposed to be about the great sex. “Yeah, but you know that’s not the point. It’s…” _It’s that I’m a witch, and that if you ever find out, you’ll know that we nearly killed a dozen people yesterday._ “I haven’t seen you in almost seven years. Just starting right back where we left off is…”

Andy nodded, sounding sad. “I know, I know. Believe me. I just wanna know why you left, that’s all. Why can’t you tell me? What’s the big secret?”

Prue looked him in the eye, and wished she could tell him. “Believe me, you don’t wanna know.”

Andy leaned forward. “Try me,” he challenged.

She tried not to sigh. “My life, it’s gotten a little complicated,” she explained, because if that wasn’t the truth, then nothing was. “I just don’t think that I should get involved in anything right now.”

“Prue, we had sex, it doesn’t mean we have to elope,” Andy replied, sounding a little upset. “Why don’t we just pretend it never happened?”

Alright, even if she didn’t want to see him again, that was _not_ what she wanted to hear. Her eyes narrowed a little. “Do you want me to toss you a life preserver now, or just let you sink on your own?”

But Andy just laughed. “No, no, I’m serious,” he said. “Why don’t you just count that one as part of our old relationship and we’ll slow down, and start another. Prue we’ve been given a second chance here, I don’t wanna blow it this time.”

Prue pursed her lips, starting to feel like maybe it would work, but her phone started ringing at the same time Andy’s beeper started going off.

Andy sighed. “Dating in the nineties,” he commented.

Prue winced a little. “Excuse me,” she said, turning away from him to answer the call. “Hello?” she asked the caller.

“Yes, hi Ms. Halliwell, this is the Buckland Auction house calling to see if you are still interested in the specialist’s position. Mr. Buckland has asked for you to come in again to verify your skill set. Would some time on Wednesday work for you, maybe at noon?”

Prue’s face lit up. “Uh, yeah, absolutely,” she answered happily. “I’m sure I can make that.”

“That’ll be great. I’ll just schedule you in and we’ll see you then.”

“Okay, thanks,” Prue said, happy just as she turned to Andy, who also looked like he had to go. “Uh, just give me a little time to think things over, okay?” she said.

Andy only nodded. “I guess that’s the only option right now. Apparently there’s been a break in a case, so I’ve gotta go…”

There was a nod. “You go ahead, I’ll cover the coffee,” she said. Andy smiled thankfully, and flagged down a waitress for Prue as he walked out.

Five minutes later, Prue strode out the door of the restaurant to head home. The situation with Andy had been pushed back, but at least she had time now to try and fix things with Dean and Piper.

Trying to get her keys out of her purse, she nearly ran into someone, though, and wound up staggering to look up at the old woman.

At first glance she was just going to say sorry and move on. She didn’t know this woman, and there was no need to waste any time. But then the woman put a hand on Prue’s arm, trying to steady herself, and Prue saw a faded black angel that looked incredibly familiar.

With that, she looked up, and actually looked at the woman. She had frizzy, yellowed hair that could have once been blonde, hollowed cheeks with day old rouge smudged around, mascara that belonged on a much younger woman, and a sweater that her friend Britney had bought just three weeks ago when they went shopping together.

She looked back at the tattoo, then back up, just _knowing_. “Britney?” she asked in a low voice.

The woman gaped at her. “Is that my name?” she asked, sounding as confused as Prue felt.

For a few moments, Prue could only gape.

 

(-:-)

 

Piper didn’t actually knock when she walked down into the basement, holding a plate with a sandwich on it. She hadn’t seen Dean out of his room all day, and had been worried about whether he’d even eaten since everything last night. It was stressful, she knew, and she wasn’t going to let _him_ suffer if Sam wasn’t going to let _her_ suffer.

The basement, admittedly, wasn’t the most desired room in the house. It was dark, noisy because of the boiler, and all of the furniture were pieces that had been falling apart when Gram’s died. When they were younger, Dean and Sam had shared a room upstairs, since Grams refused to let any of her grandkids use the basement as a bedroom. Since he had come back from hunting with his dad, though, Dean had insisted on his own room in case he wanted to have _company_ over. He’d taken Phoebe’s until she had come back last week, and now he was relegated to the basement.

He was sitting on a rickety bed in the corner, when she got down the stairs. His back was pressed against the wall, and he had a stack of the other magic books Grams had had in the attic.

Piper coughed, catching his attention before getting too close or surprising him by accident. Dean looked up slowly. He looked a little miserable.

“Hey,” she greeted slowly.

Dean tried to smile at her. “Hey,” he replied. “That for me?”

She nodded, and walked forward, taking a seat next to him on the bed. He put the book down next to him and ravenously started on it. Apparently, he _hadn’t_ eaten.

“So what have you been up to?” Piper asked, looking over his shoulder at the stack of books.

Dean sighed a little, trying to get his hands around the sandwich. “Just looking at some stuff,” he grumbled. “I doubt there’s a how-to manual for witch powers, but it can’t hurt.”

“I guess,” she muttered, looking up at the ceiling.

Dean took a bit of his sandwich. “Wha’ ‘bou’ you?” he asked around a mouthful of bread. “Wha’ve you bih’ doin’?”

Piper made a face. “Swallow,” she chastised, before leaning against the wall herself. Dean wiped his mouth as she continued. “I haven’t been doing much actually. Mostly just thinking.”

“Bout what?”

She took in a breath, chest heaving a bit. “It’s just, after everything in the past week, I just can’t figure out our powers. Phoebe’s using them to help people. Prue doesn’t want to deal with them. Sam’s convinced that they’re for good…but you and me just keep making trouble. Are they good or bad?”

Dean sighed a little and put down the sandwich. For a moment, he looked at the ceiling, almost answering that he didn’t know either. After nearly killing a kitchen full of people the night before, it was understandable. But he wasn’t stupid, and he knew that it wasn’t what Piper needed to hear.

“It’s neither,” he answered.

Piper’s brow knit, and she looked over at him.

“Magic isn’t good or bad in itself. It’s how it’s used,” he turned a little, picking a book up out of the stack, and handing it off to her. There wasn’t a title on the front, and the spine was too worn out to read, but when Piper flipped it open, there was a picture of a woman holding her hand to someone’s blood covered arm, apparently healing it. “I told you before. Even hunters use magic if it helps on a job. There are all kinds of healers and protectors around the world that use it.” He waved his hands lightly, careful to keep his muscles loose. “It’s not whether you have it or not that makes it evil. It’s whether you _use_ it for bad or not.”

Piper seemed to consider, and felt quite a bit lighter after both Dean and Sam’s pep-talks for the day, but when she looked over at Dean, his own thoughts didn’t seem to be in the words. She narrowed her eyes, and elbowed him lightly.

“If that’s so, why do you seem as unsure as I am?”

Dean pursed his lips, and looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “It’s a lot of things,” he sighed. “I mean, hunters go after witches for a reason, right? That amount of power is really tempting, and you start to think you can do anything. You can magic away a cold, or win a cooking contest without trying, or…” He paused, and looked down, rubbing his eyes. “Or play the lottery and get rich.”

Piper pursed her lips. “Phoebe probably didn’t mean for that to happen.”

“But what about when we get _control_ of these powers, huh?” Dean countered. “What about when she figures out how to _make_ herself have a premonition? What if she starts to use them for her own personal gain? And even if they aren’t evil, we still don’t know how we got this kind of power. It’s nothing I’ve ever seen before and dad and Bobby aren’t returning my calls, and…and even if magic itself isn’t bad, I don’t want to owe my soul to someone…I don’t want you guys to deal with that either.”

Piper made a face, leaning slightly so their arms brushed against each other. “And?” she prodded, knowing that there was still further into the issue to go.

Dean let out a sort of annoyed breath. “And, it’s how you use your powers,” Dean repeated. “My powers, of course are the only one of all of ours that can _really_ hurt someone. It’s like having a gun on me all the time, only I can’t put on the safety, and I don’t know when my hand is on the trigger or not. Someone that can’t handle a gun shouldn’t have one.”

“But you’re learning to control it,” Piper tried.

“Not learning fast enough,” Dean grumbled. “I have to be back at work on Monday, and I still don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Oh,” Piper muttered. There were a few beats, but then she spoke again. “Then why are you down here?”

Dean looked over at her questioningly, and she sat back up straight.

“I mean, why are you down here and not trying to get a hold on it?” she elaborated, starting to stand back up. “I’m still freaking out about this all as much as you are. I nearly exposed us all, you nearly blew up my place of employment, and like you said, we don’t know where it came from…but right now, I’m wondering if that matters. We have these powers now one way or the other, and it’s not going to get any better unless we try and _make it_ better.” She took a sort of staggered breath. “I can’t keep living terrified of what’s going to happen…and neither can you.”

A sort of pleasantly surprised look came to Dean’s face. It wasn’t like Piper was stupid, or any less willful than any of her siblings or cousins, but it wasn’t usual that she faced her fears head on and determined. Especially not on such quick notice.

Dean leaned forward. “What made you decide this?” he asked, smiling just a little.

Piper shook her head. “Everyone keeps telling me it’s going to be okay,” she said, shrugging. “Maybe if I start saying it too, it’ll work.” She laughed at the comment, and it made Dean smile even more. “C’mon, finish your sandwich and we can help each other figure out how to control it.”

A flat out grin popped up on Dean’s face, and he grabbed his plate before following her back into the main part of the house, just in time for the front door to open.

“Piper?”

Piper raised an eyebrow and looked down the hallway only to see Prue running through the entry way with an older lady behind her. “Prue?” she asked questioningly.

Prue let out a sigh of relief. “Thank god you’re home,” she said, before turning to Britney. “Brit, why don’t you go sit down at the table?” She pointed, and the elderly lady walked into the sitting room, having a seat.

Both Piper and Dean watched her go, Dean still with a hand his sandwich. “Um, who’s that?” he asked, sounding concerned.

Prue put her hands on her temples and walked back and forth for a few moments. “This is going to sound crazy, I mean even I think it sounds crazy, but I think that’s Britney.”

Piper’s eyes went wide, and she looked in on the old woman in the other room. “Britney Reynolds? Britney from high school Britney?” she questioned. “Come on Prue, Phoebe and I saw her like, two days ago. That can’t be-“

“Except that it can,” Prue interrupted. “Look, she’s got this tattoo on her hand, of an angel and I know it’s hers. I know it’s Britney.”

“It can’t be,” Piper said, but Dean held out a hand.

“Trust me, it can,” he said, his voice lowering seriously. “It’s not common, but there are things out there that will siphon years off your life.”

“Things like what?” Prue asked, sounding desperate. Dean started to shrug, but Piper cut her off.

“Prue, how can you be sure?”

Prue sighed. “I asked her questions,” she answered, “Things that only Britney would know, she may be senile but it was enough to convince me. Even more, on the way home I called Max. He hasn’t seen or heard from her since Thursday night.”

“Shit,” Dean grumbled, dropping his sandwich on the nearest available surface and thinking about what weapons he would need to get from his trunk.

Piper immediately started for the stairs, though. “We need to check the book, I think I saw something in-“

She was interrupted by a clunking sound from the entry room, and the three of them turned around to see Britney collapsed on the floor.

“Oh god,” Prue choked, immediately running back. She slid to her knees next to her friend, putting a hand in front of her face to make sure she was still breathing before noticing a napkin clutched in her hand. A look of terror wiped across her face as she read it and Dean slid to the floor on Britney’s other side.

“What’s going on?” he demanded.

“She saw this,” Prue said, holding the napkin up for him to read. Dean raised an eyebrow, but Piper, who was hovering nearby, gasped.

Dean’s concern immediately grew. “What? What is it?” he asked, looking back at the address.

“That’s where Phoebe is.”

 

(-:-)

 

On the other side of town, Phoebe was pulling up to a warehouse near the bay. It was dim, and a little creepy, but as she wasn’t a professional model, she doubted anything was out of the ordinary. She parked near the entrance where Stephan’s van was, and started to get out of the car with her new dress in a garment bag over her arm.

She smiled as she walked up to the warehouse door, and started to knock. “Stefan?” she called through the metal door. “It’s me, Phoebe.”

There was no response, so she knocked again, but when her knuckles connected with the metal, a premonition surged into her head. For a few moments, she saw herself in Stefan’s studio, tied to a table surrounded by candles. Screaming. Then she saw a wicked looking man, his skin practically dripping off of his face with wrinkles, and with long stringy hair. He was saying something, and then his eyes began glowing.

And that was where it ended. Phoebe gasped, pulling away from the door, and immediately ran back to Piper’s Jeep. She was moving to get the keys into the ignition when something grabbed her from the back seat.

She tried to scream, but she already knew it was too late.

 

(-:-)

 

Sam was sitting on his bed with the book when everything started happening. He had taken the book away from Piper obviously because it wasn’t helping the mood she had been in, but after yesterday’s premonition, he had begun combing through the book to see if there was anything else about his powers, or about the people he saw in his visions. Especially the man with the yellow eyes.

So far, he wasn’t making much headway, but that didn’t seem to matter for the day, because before he could get past the picture of a demon named Belthazor, Piper, Prue and Dean burst through the door.

“Sam, let me see the book,” Piper said as she walked over to his bed and plopped down purposefully.

He raised an eyebrow, but straightened out from where he was sitting to hand it to her. “Why? What’s going on?”

“Some bastard turned my friend Britney into an old lady and now he’s got Phoebe,” Prue said sharply. Dean was looking through Sam’s closet, where they had stored a tiny part of the Impala’s arsenal, just in case.

Sam’s eyes went wide. “Woah, seriously?”

“Yeah,” Piper said shortly, flipping through the pages only to sigh. “I know I saw something in here…” she started to growl.

Without even asking, Sam slid the book back into his lap and turned further forward in it. “Here,” he said, having mentally marked the page when he had been flipping through.

“Thank you Sam the research monkey,” Dean said brightly as he moved back across the room, dropping a duffle bag he had found on the ground. “What do we got?”

“It says that we’re dealing with a warlock named Javna,” Piper read. “He feeds one week out of every year, stealing the life force from the young using the evil eye to sustain eternal youth.”

“That’s got to be what happened to Britney,” Prue said.

“Alright, then how do we gank him?”

Prue looked over Piper’s shoulder. “It says there’s the hand of Fantima,” Prue said. “It was used by some prophet centuries ago to banish Javna back to wherever the hell he came from.” Piper flipped the page to the indicated spell. “But it says the power of three will make it permanent…what the hell does that mean?”

Sam looked up at her. “Haven’t you looked at the book at all?” he asked, mildly concerned since it was kind of the second or third page in the book.

Prue looked at him, her eyes widening to tell him that this so wasn’t the time to lecture her on research, and Piper sighed.

“It’s this prophesy that Phoebe thinks we’re a part of. One of our ancestors was a witch named Melinda Warren, who declared that there would one day be the most powerful generation of witches in her family, and that they would be called the charmed ones.”

“Except it’s not a whole generation,” Sam corrected. “It’s supposed to be three sisters that have immense power, especially when using their magic together in certain spells. There are beings that no one has been able to beat because they aren’t powerful enough, but Grams seemed to think that the Charmed ones could do it when they turned up. There are notes on power of three spells all through the book.”

Dean swore. “Shit, so this is gonna need Phoebe to work?”

Sam nodded, and scrambled to find a notebook and a pen. “As long as she can read when we find her, we can fix this,” he confirmed, scribbling down the spell on the paper.

Piper looked for the other things they would need for the spell, and almost without missing a beat, everyone ran out to the drive way and piled into the Impala, hoping that it wouldn’t be too late when they got to Phoebe.

 

(-:-)

 

The police station was bustling when Andy finally got back after lunch. Morris had paged him about a break in the case, and even if interrupted his date, Andy was anxious to figure out what had happened to all the women who had disappeared.

“What’ve we got?” he asked, walking up to where Morris was looking at images from and ATM camera.

“Look at this,” his partner said, showing him the images. “ATM caught the first victim.”

Andy took the pictures, glancing at the picture of the pretty girl with a dark haired man next to her side. “And she’s leaving with that photographer, Stefan…”

“That was the last place she was seen before she disappeared. Is he on the suspect list?”

Putting down the pictures, Andy moved to call in the cavalry. Looked like they had a photographer to bust. “Just moved to the top.”

Morris chuckled, and moved to get his jacket before they headed out the door. “God bless ATMs…”

 

(-:-)

 

The Impala slid to a stop in front of the warehouse and almost immediately, Piper and Prue bolted out of the car. They ran up to the Jeep while Dean parked and Sam looked around for any signs of Phoebe.

“Do you see anything?” Prue asked, glancing inside the jeep just to make sure Phoebe wasn’t in there.

“No,” Piper sighed before rounding on Dean and Sam. “You guys?”

“Nothing happened outside,” Dean said, walking towards the door and tossing Sam a shotgun. He himself had a pistol in his hand, not eager to test out his powers on another warlock. He started to fiddle with the door knob just as they heard a scream. Immediately, they all looked urgent and ran inside.

The warehouse was dark except for a candle-lit circle in the center of the room where Phoebe was laying on an altar. Her hands were tied down, and she was screaming as Stefan, otherwise known as Javna, hovered over her, eyes glowing.

“Hey!” Dean yelled, holding up his gun while Prue waved her arm and flung Javna across the room. Sam and Piper ran to Phoebe, working her wrists and ankles from the bonds while Dean and Prue kept their eyes on Javna.

“Thank god you guys,” Phoebe breathed as she sat up. “Let’s get out of here-“

Sam cut her off. “No, we don’t have a lot of time,” he said, starting to fumble through his pockets. He pulled out a mirror and the piece of paper he had written the spell on. He shoved them into Phoebe’s hands before running off. “Prue, hurry up,” he said as he took a stance next to Dean and aimed the gun in his hand at Javna.

As Javna started to stand back up, he grimaced at the boys standing between him and the girl he had been trying to attack. Prue slowly walked back to her sisters, never taking her eyes off of Javna. Piper handed the mirror to Prue, starting to read the spell as Javna began getting closer.

“Evil eyes look unto thee, may they soon extinguished be, bend they will to the power of three…”

Javna surged forward, making a roar of fury. Dean shot at him, though it did little to slow him down, which was probably for the best. He had to keep him looking at the girls if this would work, after all.

“…Eye of earth, evil and accursed. Evil eyes look unto thee, may they soon extinguished be, bend they will to the power of three, eye of earth, evil and accursed.”

As the last word was uttered, Javna’s eyes started glowing, and the light hit the mirror in Prue’s hand. It bounced back and hit his own eyes. There was another roar as the light spread through his body and he burst into a cloud of dust.

Dean and Sam looked at the pile of ash now on the floor.

Phoebe seemed to consider saying something, but suddenly they heard sirens down the street. Dean swore. “Shit, Sammy, ditch the gun under the altar.”

The girls looked a little confused as Dean tucked his pistol in the back of his jeans, hiding it under his jacket, before starting to herd them to the door. Sam took a few seconds to smudge any fingerprints on the shotgun before he tossed it under the table Phoebe had been tied to. Then, they all ran for the door.

They got out to the Jeep just in time for the cops to pull up, and of course Andy was the one to get out of the front car. “Prue? What are you doing here?” he demanded as Morris and the other officers ran inside.

“Ah, we were trying to get the jeep started,” Prue said, pointing at the car they were standing next to while Dean went and leaned against the impala.

“Phoebe called, and said she was having car troubles,” Piper added.

“Stefan was going to take pictures of me,” Phoebe said to explain her own presence here.

Andy seemed to sigh in aggravation. “Do you have any idea how lucky you are? This guy is a stalker.”

Morris walked back out of the building. “No sign of him inside, but his car is here so he might still be around.”

Andy looked around, and then at Prue and her family members suspiciously. “Excuse me…” he muttered, before reaching into the jeep and turning the key. It started immediately.

Prue seemed to panic a little, but Dean grinned. “See, told you I could fix it,” he boasted, as if the entire time they had been there, he had been working on Phoebe’s car.

Andy still didn’t look convinced, but Phoebe moved to jump in the jeep. “Maybe we should go…” she said.

Piper and Phoebe jumped into the Jeep, while Dean and Sam slid into the Impala. For a few moments, Prue and Andy just looked at each other, because Prue knew that Andy was catching onto her odd behavior.

“See you, Andy,” she said quietly, before walking to join the boys in the Impala.

Andy just waved, trying to figure out what she was hiding as they drove away from the crime scene.

 

(-:-)

Later that day, Phoebe was wearing one of Piper’s dresses again as she walked through Quake. Piper had mostly cleared up the entire mess about the oven exploding. An inspector had come in earlier and determined that there was no leak, and that the oven must have just been faulty. The kitchen was back running with one oven short, and the restaurant was full of customers again.

At the bar, the TV was playing the nights winning lottery numbers, and she was excitedly holding up her ticket to see if the numbers matched. As each of the little ping-pong balls got another number on them, she got more excited. Each of the numbers matched. “I won!” she squealed to herself excitedly, knowing that she’d both helped that elderly couple and that she would be able to keep her new dress.

Yet, as she looked down at her ticket, suddenly the numbers faded away.

She stared at it with wide eyes for a moment, but then she remembered what Dean and Prue had been telling her. _You aren’t supposed to use your powers for personal gain_.

She didn’t know how or why the numbers had disappeared, but she sort of understood that it was for the best. She frowned a little and started to stand up. Alright, she had helped the elderly couple, but now she would have to return the dress. She smiled a bit, guessing that was good enough.

As she walked down the bar, she was surprised to see the woman Stefan had been with the afternoon before, the pretty girl with the red hair.

“Hey, how are you?” she asked, concerned about whether she remembered anything about Javna.

However, the girl just looked at her like she was crazy, not knowing at all who she was. To save face, Phoebe just kept walking to join Prue, Piper, Dean and Sam at a table.

“Do you know that girl?” Sam asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I almost was that girl,” Phoebe explained. “She was one of Stefan’s victims. Obviously, she doesn’t remember.”

“Lucky her,” Dean commented, taking a sip of his coke.

But Phoebe shook her head. “No, lucky _me_ ,” she corrected. “I need to be more careful.”

Everyone looked over at her in surprise. Prue looked the most amused. “Excuse me, did I just hear it? Did she actually admit to doing something wrong?”

“That’s what I heard,” Piper followed up.

Phoebe just rolled her eyes. “Frame it, it’s not going to happen again,” she joked, before looking at them all. “But, I do get bragging rights, because I was right. We helped those girls today. Our powers _are_ good.” She looked at Piper and smiled especially wide. “And we _are_ the charmed ones!”

Piper rolled her eyes, remembering how Phoebe had told her as much last week when they had received their powers. Piper hadn’t listened, and Dean hadn’t wanted to even hear about it.

Dean shook his head. “What does that even mean, anyway?” he asked, not having read the passage himself. “Charmed? Are you just really powerful or…or what?”

“That’s what the book seemed to suggest,” Sam said, shrugging. “The only witches in centuries powerful enough to take out some of the worst demons and monsters out there. It’s apparently why so many warlocks are going to be coming after you. If they can get their hands on your kind of power, they could rule the world.”

Piper twisted her mouth into a frown, and looked at the table. “Well, here’s to the power of three,” she toasted, said, raising her glass, “whether we like it or not.”

Prue winced a little, not fond of hearing it in those terms, but raised her glass. Phoebe followed suit, looking considerably less distressed than her sisters.

For a second, Dean and Sam just glanced at each other, knowing the moment had kind of been ruined by the feeling of dread and fear that was still permeating the household. So he shook his head and interrupted.

“Hey, none of that,” he said pointedly, calling them out of their rather disappointing toast. “You don’t toast to things you don’t care about.”

Sam smiled a little. “Dean’s right,” he said laughing a little. “Besides, you guys are the only power-of-three, so it doesn’t include me or Dean. Whether we’re charmed or not, we’re going to be helping you the entire way.”

The comment made Piper laugh. “And we can’t have that, can we,” she said, before looking up thoughtfully. She smiled at Dean. _You don’t toast to things you don’t care about._

“Alright, then, to family…”

“To family,” Prue reprised, smiling this time as she raised her glass. “Whether we’re part of some twist of destiny or not.” That comment seemed to go through them all, because Sam was right. Charmed or not, warlocks or demons, even if they were going to face the apocalypse, Sam was right. They were going to stick together.

Dean and Sam raised their glasses. Phoebe was the last, nudging Sam with an elbow as she raised hers. “To family, whether we have magic or not,” she said finally.

Sam felt a sinking in his stomach as their glasses clinked together.

 

(-:-)

_A brown haired girl smiled as she glanced around the tables at a department store, picking out a new top for class, thinking it was just the right shade of pink._

_Pushing himself just a bit further, the boy outstripped the other ROTC boys on the track, making it past the end line before any of them._

_With tears in her eyes, the blonde walked away from her family’s pristine white house, everything she could take with her in a backpack._

_A man with yellow eyes appeared, walking through the black and curiously peering into Sam’s eyes. “Again with the visions,” he said, sounding frustrated. “This is happening way too soon…” He waved his hand_.

 

Sam slammed up in bed, breathing hard from the dream he had. Yellow eyes. The blonde girl. The ROTC kid and the brunette cheerleader. They were all becoming familiar to him. But he knew that these visions were not happening the way they should. Not the way people said it was supposed to, and not the way Phoebe’s happened.

He pressed his palms into his eyes, feeling tired and worn out from the vision.

What was going on?


End file.
